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SCL Chapter 115: Annihilation Mandate
🕑 Added 2025-06-12 04:28:45 +0000 UTCThe current Speaker of the Federal Parliament, Westyn MacMasters, stepped onto the podium. This vigorous elder exuded an aura of unquestionable authority and presence. Even though those seated before him—dignitaries and nobles—controlled 90% of all assets on Tarsonis, they still looked toward him with respect.
“The proposal now being presented,” Speaker MacMasters declared calmly, “is a motion regarding the use of Apocalypse-class nuclear warheads to annihilate Korhal IV—this will be the only item put to vote today.”
No one gasped. It was as if the words hadn’t yet registered.
“My God!” Ava Holt exclaimed, covering her mouth. “What is Andrea trying to do? She’s about to unleash a demon that could consume the entire galaxy!”
“Even if her goal is somehow justifiable, this inhumane, unspeakable atrocity will be remembered by future generations,” Constantino said. “The Tygore family—no, the entire Federal Parliament, and every Old Family—will bear that disgrace.”
“Over forty million people!”
“Unbelievable,” Bennett muttered, frowning in irritation that no one had warned him in advance. “Losing Korhal means losing a major consumer hub. The mining guilds on Kel-Morian can cover the losses—but dividing the profits fairly, that will be a headache.”
As Speaker MacMasters reiterated the motion’s principles and stipulations, printed copies of the proposal were quickly distributed to Constantino and the others.
“The residents of Korhal IV and its satellites have betrayed the vows made by their ancestors to Tarsonis. We once spared no effort to help the ancestors of Angus Mengsk build a self-sufficient new homeland and welcomed them as one of the thirteen core worlds. They were granted access to the Federation’s trade network, able to exchange their native colonial products and local technologies for essential goods to ensure development.”
MacMasters read from the text, occasionally looking up at the audience seated below.
“Now that Korhal IV has torn up that agreement and turned against the Federal Parliament, the most public and rational verdict we can issue is the permanent destruction of this openly rebellious planet—an absolute eradication of the possibility of future insurrection!”
“If only dissenters and traitors remain on Korhal, then the Terran Federation is better off abandoning the land and all its people. Launch the nukes! Reduce Korhal IV to scorched earth!”
Constantino sighed audibly as he read certain horrific passages: in short, the proposal abandoned all possibilities of peace negotiations or a military reconquest of Korhal. It made no attempt to rebuild a world ravaged by war. The fleet would carry over one thousand Apocalypse-class warheads, to be deployed from high orbit and set the planet ablaze.
“This is utterly inhumane.”
Ava Holt threw down the proposal in fury. “There’s no way this motion can pass. It’s sheer madness! No person with a conscience should vote in favor of it!”
Yet the senators and invited delegates wore no obvious expressions, just as they always did. Some still maintained formal, polite smiles as they exchanged quiet, cautious remarks with one another. It was a critical vote—no one was taking it lightly.
“I’ll never support this,” Constantino made his stance clear. “No one truly believes this is the right course of action. We have better options. The Marines have already defeated the Kel-Morian forces. Are you telling me we can’t take back a single planet like Korhal?”
When the time for voting came, Ava Holt remained confident. But as silence spread through the chamber, she began to sense something was wrong.
Even Constantino had believed, up until the last moment, that the motion had no chance of passing. But the results hit him like a slap in the face.
The 'yes' votes overwhelmed the 'no' votes, with only a handful abstaining.
The first vote passed. The second passed as well, unsurprisingly. By the third, half the chamber was already preparing to leave.
Everyone knew then: Korhal IV was finished.
But this was a classified session. No one outside the chamber would know until the destruction of Korhal began to ripple across Federation space. Only then would the other worlds learn the truth.
Ava Holt collapsed into her chair, stunned. Constantino could only shake his head repeatedly, while Errol Bennett, like the others, remained expressionless.
The Old Families had grown far too indifferent, and the senators cared only about maintaining their grip on power within the Terran Federation.
“How could it come to this?” Ava whispered, unable to comprehend her peers’ cold-heartedness.
“The decision’s already been made.” As Errol Bennett left without a change in expression, Constantino remained calm. “The negotiations with the Kel-Morian Combine will conclude before June. After that, the fleet will move on Korhal IV immediately.”
The failure of the assassination attempt on Angus had accelerated the decision for nuclear annihilation by a full year.
“Wait and see, daughter of Robin Holt,” Constantino said. “Korhal IV still has time to escape its doom.”
With those words, he left the Hall of Reason and returned to his private yacht. As the vessel departed from the Council Hall, Constantino sat alone in his spacious cabin and reached into a carefully concealed pocket, retrieving a single button.
It was a Umojan surveillance device.
When he pressed his finger against it, a recorded voice began to play: “Launch the nukes! Reduce Korhal IV to scorched earth!”
...
As Constantino stepped off his private yacht docked at the Terra Sky Tower, his adorable youngest daughter, Nova Terra, came running toward him. Her white ruffled princess dress fluttered like a blooming Tarsonis blossom.
Weighed down by a heavy heart, Constantino forced a smile and lifted his six-year-old daughter into his arms. He couldn’t help but sigh inwardly—Nova truly was his angel.
His eldest daughter, Clara, had stopped clinging to him the moment she became self-aware. Once a bright and innocent child, she had gradually grown into a true Tarsonis noble. Graceful and romantic by nature, her infatuation with power and luxury had already begun to show.
His ten-year-old second son, Zebediah, excelled in everything he did. The boy had an uncanny talent for managing a company. Constantino's heir apparent was both exceptional and likable—but that rascal could never compare to Nova’s gentle warmth and uncanny emotional sensitivity.
“Daddy, why do so many people have to die?” Nova Terra’s sweet smile vanished as her face suddenly turned pale in her father’s embrace. Her innate level-ten psionic abilities had allowed her to glimpse the terrifying visions in Constantino’s mind.
Mushroom clouds of orange-red bloomed across vast, idyllic grasslands, meadows, and farmlands. Buildings of silvery steel and glass that shimmered like crystal melted under furnace-like flames and searing heat.
After the thunderous collapse of mountains and a blinding flash of light, lush garden worlds were reduced to desolate, monochrome wastelands choked with radiation. Cities that had once housed millions vanished like sugar cubes dissolving in hot water. Every trace of their existence was wiped away.
In areas that narrowly escaped the initial blasts, radiation spread like a death wind. People’s skin began to rot and slough off in sheets. Children clutched their toys and died in their homes. Surviving animals underwent grotesque mutations—Koprulu hounds, once loyal companions of the Korhalites, became horned beasts. Monstrous aberrations devoured the corpses of the fallen.
That planet would become a death world, soaked in terrifying radiation.
“Death… it’s such a painful thing. Why does this have to happen to people?” Nova’s tears fell like shattered crystal beads from her pale green eyes.
“It’s alright, Nova.” Constantino blamed himself for his carelessness. Nova’s powerful telepathy meant she often picked up the thoughts of those around her without warning. His words were meant to comfort her—but also himself. “It hasn’t come to that yet. Not yet.”
“It won’t turn out that way. Things haven’t gone that far. We still have a chance to stop it,” he said firmly.
Constantino couldn’t help but feel relieved for Korhal. Fortunately, the Terran Confederacy’s fleets still had to contend with threats from the Kel-Morian Combine and the Umojans. If this were peacetime, once the resolution passed, it would only take the fleet a few standard Earth days to warp from Tarsonis to Korhal IV. The Korhalites would never have time to escape.
Right now, by the most optimistic estimates, they still had over a month.
“I guess… but death is still the scariest thing. Why do humans kill each other?” Nova gazed up at him, tears brimming in her eyes.
“You’re still too young, Nova. You can’t yet understand what death truly means.” Constantino looked seriously into her eyes. “And as for humanity—look through our history, and you’ll see a species constantly splitting apart, growing hostile toward itself, and locked in endless self-destruction. Maybe it takes a powerful enemy to finally unite us all.”
With that, Constantino handed his daughter over to a nearby maid. “I have important business to attend to. I must warn Angus.”
He dismissed the butler and the family corporation manager who were ready to accompany him, then entered a sealed chamber within the Terra Sky Tower. The room was sparsely furnished—only a single armchair and a compact holoprojector.
When the holoprojector activated, a set of Terra-scripted English words rotated and disassembled into beams of light that outlined a three-dimensional holographic display.
Roughly thirty minutes later, after multiple layers of encryption and countless signal boosts and relays across hundreds of star systems, the encoded data finally resolved into an audio signal, playing on the holographic screen before Constantino’s eyes.
“I am Angus Mengsk.”
On the other side of the connection was Angus, who had just rushed back home from Parliament. “Mr. Constantino, I was told you contacted me about something of utmost urgency.”
“Yes.”
Constantino noticed that Angus looked significantly older than the last time they had met. “I have a recording from the Federal Parliament.”
"..."
When the words 'Apocalypse-class nuclear bombs' were mentioned, Angus’s upright posture visibly faltered—but only for a brief moment.
“They really intend to go through with it?” he asked.
“Before June arrives this year,” Constantino replied. “As far as I know, that’s exactly when the sunflowers bloom and the Midsummer Gardens are in full splendor in Styrling—second only to Christmas as the most important holiday for the people of Korhal.”
“We’ve got two orbital defense platforms and a space-based weapons station currently under construction, with Umojan assistance.”
Angus sat as still as a statue, his newly grown beard trembling slightly. “But it’s nowhere near enough. Our ships can’t even breach the armor of a battlecruiser.”
He lowered his head and fell silent for a few moments, then said, “The evacuation of civilians must be accelerated. Less than half a month—no, if we factor in the time it takes for the outer-system fleet to arrive, we still have four weeks. If the Umojans help us, it’ll be much easier.”
“We’ll use large transport ships and freighters—nonstop runs, packing every room full of people, and evacuating everyone we can.”
He added, “Korhal can be rebuilt. But if its people are gone… I might as well shoot myself.”
Thankfully, Korhal only had several tens of millions of inhabitants. If it were like Tarsonis, with over two billion, then time would never have been enough.
“I can provide ships for Korhal,” Constantino said. “But there are still several Terra family factories on the surface. I’ll need to recover the modular systems. Otherwise, the Terra Group’s losses will be incalculable.”
“The Mengsk family will cover your losses.”
Just then, Angus tilted his head slightly, as if listening to something.
“Please hold a moment, Mr. Constantino.”
He stepped away for several minutes. When he returned, he was holding several printed documents.
“I’ve just received word from House Holt and House Collin. One Federation MP, blackmailed by Umojan agents over a sexual scandal, has confirmed the plan to deploy nuclear weapons.”
“My son Augustus once suspected this might happen, but he never imagined it would come this fast.”
“Evacuating the civilians and relocating them to other planets may be an effective strategy,” Constantino said, “but how exactly do you plan to carry it out?”
“First of all, a forced evacuation will absolutely trigger panic. We don’t know how many people will believe us—or how many will even agree to leave. It’s all an unknown."
"Then Korhal will descend into chaos from within. Before the Federation fleet even arrives, we’ll have already fallen apart ourselves.”
“Then the truth must be made public,” Angus said firmly.
“I stand with you out of conscience. God knows the weight I bear and how hard I’ve tried.”
Before shutting off the communication, Constantino looked at the holographic screen.
“We may not always be friends, but right now, in this moment, I stand with the people of Korhal.”
